


Waking Up to You

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Blood, Doctor AU!, F/F, F/M, Freckled Jesus jokes, Gore, Hiatus, M/M, Multi, Otherwise Injuries, POV First Person, Probably a lot of Scrubs references, Rating is for later chapters, Rating will probably go up, Romantic Comedy, Work Up For Adoption, of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 22:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is a first year OB resident, fresh out of medical school. Struggling with the everyday problems of being a resident and going through the process to become a doctor, Marco doesn't have a lot of time to devote a personal life to. This all changes when a patient comes into the ER and there's not enough doctors to go around in the Emergency Room, forcing Marco to assist his friend Armin in a compound fracture case. </p><p>When the patient wakes up on the operating table, it's like some weird twist of fate that ties the two together. Marco is reluctant to befriend a patient, but his patient doesn't seem to care one bit.</p><p>**HIATUS - POSSIBLY DISCONTINUED, AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Operating Table

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning this one for probably a month. :/ The only issue I have is that I'm not sure whether or not the fact I'm doing Marco's POV and probably Jean's POV is a good idea? Idk. I'm not sure how well I'll be able to write Jean's point of view so bear with me guys. D8
> 
> Okey, anyhoo. I intend for this to be a more fun piece in comparison to my other ones where people keep DYING *cough*marco*cough* or getting injured. So here we go have a doctor au which really in retrospect doesn't get rid of the blood and guts but I like it anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> I also was taking a few liberties with this. I'm not a medstudent, I've been around for my mom's whole process of med school to residency to fellowship so I'm taking notes from her. If anything's incorrect, its my author's freedom! XD No actually I apologize. Any confusion over things like terms or if you find errors or have questions, feel free to comment with them! I will respond!

The day had been slow, excruciatingly slow. But with each passing moment, I was able to again find at least some fulfillment in my job. Being an OB resident was hard but the call hours were harder and the job was annoying most days. It was the same thing every day unless you had the blessing of working in another department for your rotation schedule.

 

My next month, starting tomorrow, I had the wonderful pleasure of working in the Emergency Room, which wouldn’t be all too fun. The types of cases that went through there ranged from broken arms to accidentally putting a nail through your hand. If anything, it was a colorful place where you got to meet a wide range of patients.

 

It wasn’t in my interest to become an emergency room surgeon, however, and it wouldn’t ever be. I had more interest in the maternity ward. While delivering babies at odd hours of the night is not exactly a blessing, you got to meet several babies each day and you got to meet them in their first few hours, remaining one of the first faces they ever see.

 

Of course, the infants will never remember you but running into them later in life at grocery stores and seeing them grow _is_ a blessing. The little interaction you have with them at the beginning of their lives is inspiring.

 

It was the only thing that kept me going on days like this. The slow, painful days where you’re just going through the motions.

 

Christa, a fellow resident in my year had told me that downstairs in the ER they were getting more trouble than they could have bargained for. I had no idea what suddenly brought on the flux of incoming patients but residents and doctors were getting paged left and right for extra help. Since the maternity ward was basically empty, we’d already seen our attending Doctor Ral disappeared down there to help during the lull in patients.

 

“Do you think we’ll get called in?” I asked, leaning in her direction. Christa shrugged from where she sat, listening to the machines running behind our main counter and desks. She was finishing logging some of her hours. “They’ll need someone here to take care of things if things suddenly get busy up here. You know how radical it gets.” She responded in a light tone.

 

I sighed and nodded. Doctor Ral would be back soon. She promised to only be away for a little while. I stood idly, hand ready to reach for my pager if needed be. No C-sections were scheduled today, or at least the few that were had been taken care of earlier.

 

With the need for conversation, or something to keep me occupied, I turned towards Christa again. “I heard a rumor that you were seeing someone.” I prodded. It was the truth. I had heard a rumor about some girl who looked a lot like me, or at least she had freckles. Armin didn’t really specify when he was slipping me the knowledge.

 

Christa blushed red in response. “Not exactly. She’s been hitting on me.” She said innocently, giving me a look that said it really wasn’t anything big.

 

“Who is it?” I asked, curious. I was concerned for my friend. She’d had a great number of people who hit on her from time to time and most of them were bullies. We’d go out for drinks the day after our call hours would end and on more than one occasion I’d had to get some rather insistent guys to leave her alone. My height could be a blessing sometimes.

 

Christa exhaled before rotating on her chair to look up at me. Her eyes had been trained on the computer screen but now she didn’t seem to want to focus on work anymore. “Ymir.” She replied, slightly exasperated but otherwise not indicating any discomfort.

 

My mind backtracked for a moment and I raised an eyebrow. “The custodian?” I said incredulously and Christa nodded her head. “But she’s really nice! Honestly, she’s just a little abrasive.” Christa defended immediately before I could make any false assumptions.

 

I rolled my eyes and nodded anyway. I had no right to make accusations. “Well, we all know who’ll be making the money in that relationship.” I grumbled, somewhat sarcastically but it was a true statement.

 

Christa seemed appalled and she quickly threw one of her pens at me. It wasn’t mean to hurt but it did leave an inky mark on my arm. “Marco! That’s rude!” She protested and I only laughed in response, rubbing at the ink on my arm.

 

“I know, I know.” I smirked. Most people would think I was a friendly, always honest, couldn’t ever say a bad thing about anyone kind of person but I had my perks and the people who knew me could recognize the few less desirable traits. Christa was one of those few people.

 

Not saying I’m not nice, but some people would claim me to be a saint and if anyone had the right to be called holy it was Christa or Armin. Armin was training to be a surgeon, though he still didn’t know what for. I think he’d do well in oncology. He’s got the personality and the heart for it.

 

“Talking about relationships, how did that date go last night?” She questioned, typing a few more words into her log. I shrugged and looked down the hallway as a custodian started cleaning the hallway floors. It wasn’t Ymir.

 

There wasn’t much to say about my love life but the fact that it’s a devoid wasteland and the few dates I would manage to go on would end horribly. I’d either end up getting called into the hospital or the person wouldn’t want to hear about my work but rather my pay check.

 

In all honesty, we don’t get paid a whole lot of anything during our residency. Fifty thousand a year could get burnt through really fast when it came down to student loans, rent money and everything else. It just meant we lived the good old ramen noodle diet which really didn’t benefit one’s cholesterol.

 

“Didn’t end well.” I responded and Christa hummed sympathetically.

 

She reached over to place a hand on my arm, directly over the ink smudge. “I’m sorry.” She never had the issue of a small selection pool. She was a gorgeous, bisexual female with a heart big enough for five yet she did know at least some of the pain. Most of her selection pool was filled with guys attached to her appearance and pay check.

 

“Nah, it’s okay.” I pushed off the feeling of loneliness and opted to go down to the cafeteria for food. “It’s Taco Tuesday. Do you want anything? I’m running down to get a churro or something.” I added, giving her a look. She cringed at the idea and shook her head no.

 

I nodded my head in response and started walking towards the nearest elevator. She and the few other doctors in the area could handle our severe lack of patients for the little while it’d take me to get food.

 

The thing with food at the hospital is that, because of the weird work hours and the level at which the day can get in business, eating whenever you can is a necessity. Who knows when five patients might roll through the door ready to have their babies?

 

Generally, OB residents have to eat at any chance they get and the same goes for those working in the ER. I rode down the elevator by myself for the most part, until I met a nurse from the psych ward on level two and we both went down to level one.

 

The nurse split off in the opposite direction. I wasn’t surprised.

 

I quickly took off towards the cafeteria, the weight of my pager attached to my white coat reminding me I needed to speed up my pace. There was always a certain level of paranoia that came with the pager.

 

The cafeteria was empty aside from a few disgruntled patient family members, all feeling wary towards their loved one’s condition. It was quiet.

 

I went straight to the line at the counter and grabbed a bag of Doritos and an instant ramen cup. My gaze met Sasha Braus, the typical cafeteria lady. Though really she was my age and had the hunger of a hungry hungry hippo. Any food left behind at the end of the day went to her, no matter how sketchy the quality. I’m guessing she was just trying to get by like the rest of us.

 

“Marco! No hot foods?” She grinned, her speech slightly hindered by the cracker stuffed into the side of her cheek. I shook my head politely and smiled. “No. I’m waiting to get called back upstairs. It’s been a slow day and that’s always a bad omen.” I explained and she waved me off.

 

Sasha quickly rang up my food and put it towards my account. I bid her thanks and goodbye, walking into the doctor’s lounge where we could eat separate from patient families.

 

The room was empty. Go figure.

 

I sighed. We were a smaller hospital in a smaller town. It was often a lot of places were empty.

 

I managed to open my bag of Doritos before the blaring noise of my pager went off and I cursed under my breath. I quickly grabbed the small device and held it up to look at where the page came from. It didn’t come from OB. It came from the Emergency Room.

 

Hysterics were typical in those situations. They already had a multitude of doctors working in the dangerous department down the hall today and the fact they needed me was not a good sign. At the same time I looked up to the door leading from the hallway to the doctor’s lounge.

 

Armin’s familiar, blond hair came into view. “Marco! Christa said you’d be here. We’ve got a compound fracture that needs to be operated on ASAP and Doctor Bossard won’t be able to get in there immediately. Come on!” He said with the urgency he always carried with him.

 

I nodded my head and picked up my food, quickly sticking my head back into the main cafeteria where Sasha was. “Sasha, watch my food. I don’t care if you eat it.” I demanded, chucking the open bag of Doritos and instant noodles at her. She had been in the middle of serving a patient when she dropped the metal spoon full of chili she was holding and went to catch both items.

 

I didn’t check to see if she caught them. I turned and ran back with Armin who was already halfway prepared for surgery. We ran down the hall quickly, dodging Bertholdt who was hurrying into the ER with sweat pouring down his forehead. He was a pain in surgery, sweating nearly everywhere and he had his own med student to wipe his forehead twice every minute.

 

The second Armin and I got into the prep room, I began getting properly dressed and scrubbing my hands to the point of sterility while Armin went to see if our patient was being taken care of.

 

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I was paged to the ER, but something about getting called down a day before my Emergency Room rotation started seemed to almost have a fate-like twist to it. I don’t know but it felt like the universe wanted me to be here today.

 

Armin rushed about just as they brought our patient in and set him down on the table. The lack of people around to help was astonishing but that was why I was here.

 

As quickly as I could, I made my way into the operating room and positioned myself next to the patient’s compound fractured arm. It was a bloody, disgusting sight but Armin almost seemed excited so I didn’t say anything.

 

“Wow, this one _is_ a bad one.” Armin remarked out loud as he began to undo the small patch job of bandaging someone had worked onto the wound. “Try not to sound so excited, the guy’s knocked out and bleeding.” I replied back in a slightly exasperated tone.

 

I spared a short glance towards our patient’s face. He was knocked out, as he should be, and probably the most odd thing was he had two-toned hair. The top, also the messier part, was a light brown color and the bottom was a darker chocolate. It was kind of cute really. Though the guy did have a thug-like face in comparison to the people I hung around with.

 

I probably would have kept staring at the patient had Armin not needed my help and Doctor Bossard not entered the room looking pissed off as always. “I can’t believe…” He started to grumble as he walked over.

 

“Hello, Doctor Bossard.” I greeted, hoping he would recognize me or something. He did spend a lot of time upstairs in the OB department hanging around looking for Doctor Ral. He’d asked me where she was enough times.

 

Bossard nodded his head towards me and it looked like their might have been some slight recognition. “Who are you?” He asked, his eyes telling me that he was confused. I wasn’t one of his typical students or he probably would have remembered.

 

“OB resident Marco Bodt. You’ll have me working with you starting tomorrow for my ER rotation.” I explained, slightly saddened by the lack of memory. Although, people did tell me I had a semi-forgetful face. I didn’t really stand out much to most people.

 

Bossard nodded his head but the information seemed to just go in one ear and out the other. He didn’t have much care for anyone but the other attending doctors.

 

“Alright what do we have here?” He muttered as he leaned down to look at the compound fracture. Knowing not to interfere with a doctor with his sort of ego, I backed up slightly and made sure that all the tools they’d need to operate were within reach.

 

Not exactly to my surprise, Armin got to do some of the work and Bossard was pleased with him. Armin was a good worker, I couldn’t blame the guy.

 

Towards the end of the surgery, which didn’t take too long at all thank god, something unexpected started to happen. I had been standing beside the patient when we noticed something both very bad and punishment worthy of the idiots who gave our patient anesthesia.

 

Slowly our patient’s eyes had started fluttering open and his heart rate picked back up. “Uh…sir,” I began to say just as the patient turned his head to me. I quickly moved to block his view of his arm, preventing any sudden thrashing or horror that could normally happen.

 

I pulled down my mask, making sure the amber eyes stayed focused on my brown ones. “Are you feeling any pain?” I asked quickly. Behind me I could hear Armin and Bossard speeding up their work, trying to make sure the male didn’t notice their presence before their work was done.

 

“…wha…you some kinda…freckled Jesus or sumthin…?” The male stumbled over his words and it was obvious he didn’t know what he was saying or where he was though in reality the overhead lights above and behind me might not have helped this little fantasy of his.

 

I shook my head, not exactly sure how to respond to that one. Hopefully he wasn’t fully aware of anything that was going on. “What is the last thing you remember?” I tried asking but he kept staring at me all confused.

 

“…I thought,” He paused after a moment and then kept going. “Jesus had a beard.” Alright so he was taking this little fantasy of his seriously. I guess that’s what anesthetic did to a person. It made them forget things and screw with their sense of reality.

 

Alright, I could work with this. Keeping him focused on some sort of imaginary god was better than letting him realize he was in an operating room with a broken bone sticking out of his skin.

 

I smiled kindly. “Not always.” I prompted him, hoping it would keep his fantasy going. The guy’s eyes widened for a moment before he relaxed. “Yeah, cuz…you’re a young freckled Jesus…may the force be with you.”

 

Behind me I could hear Armin choke down his laughter. I frowned slightly before returning to this really, really strange façade. “And with you as well.” I didn’t know what I was doing, really. There’s no handbook on how to deal with a patient in an operating room that just woke up and thinks you’re a deity.  I might have to write that handbook after this.

 

The patient blushed slightly and nodded. If anything the whole situation was pretty cute. Behind me I felt a hand prod my shoulder. “Alright Yoda, we’re finished.” He said, grinning like an idiot over what had happened. I scowled at him and threw a glove at him. “Oh go get stranded in Tatooine.” I replied back.

 

Armin laughed out loud at that. “It’s Dagobah, you uncultured swine.” Armin corrected. Next to me our patient seemed a little more than out of it. He was pretty confused by the conversation that was taking place and he didn’t know how to follow it.

 

“Okay,” I paused to look at the name on the patient’s chart. “Jean, let’s get you somewhere else so other people can get in here.” I said as Armin rolled over a bed for us. Jean gave me a puzzled look and I only grinned reassuringly.

 

Hopefully he wouldn’t remember any of this strange freckled Jesus episode of his once he was fully awake.

 

The patient complied quite easily and we rolled him to one of the empty beds where he could sort out his recent life choices in deciding that a doctor was their lord and savior in peace. One of the nurses that had been walking down the hallway helped us the moment she got to us and soon I was able to return back upstairs.

 

I didn’t leave without saying goodbye to Jean though. The still woozy patient regarded me with a confused smile of thanks and waved good bye to me with his good arm. I nodded back kindly and made my way to the elevator.

 

Once I got upstairs to the OB department, Christa saw my face and seemed to know there was an interesting story to be told.

 

“Alright that was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me.” I remarked after reciting to her the entire story that started with getting doritos to being named a deity. Christa was giggling, excited about the story but altogether unsure what to say.

 

After a few seconds of calming down she looked at me and smiled. “Maybe you should go see if he’s into guys when he’s more sober.” She suggested and I laughed lightly at her joke.

 

Yet, she seemed serious as she stopped giggling too and gave me one of her thoughtful looks. I blinked in confusion. “Hey, we’re not supposed to date patients. That’s gross and it breaks like ten different moral codes.” I countered before she could give any reasoning.

 

“Yes, but Marco! He thought highly enough of you to think of you as Jesus! That’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Christa said, placing a hand on my shoulder as she settled herself down on the cleared off part of the desk-counter.

 

I shook my head at her, still having to look down slightly to look her in the eye. “Christa, it’s wrong. I could get into so much trouble for that.” I replied back in a realistic tone.

 

She frowned sadly, taking her hand away. “I don’t like seeing you alone all the time. Nowadays you’ll end up being the third wheel since so many of us are finding dates. I mean look at Armin! The kid has his face buried in the books all the time and yet he’s still managing to squeeze in a date or two with Annie.”

 

“Annie?” I asked, having not thought that stray date had gone successfully. Annie was a girl he met through Bertholdt and amazingly that seemed to be going somewhere.

 

Christa rolled her eyes. “Stop changing the subject. I don’t think Smith would care about it anyway. For god’s sake, Marco, the guy’s doing Levi. I don’t think he cares in the slightest about patient, doctor relations.” She seemed extremely frustrated by the situation.

 

I flinched slightly at that information. “Did that finally get confirmed? What about Zoe? Wasn’t she the third party? Does she _know_?” I asked, suddenly my concern for Hanji the crazed lab technician growing. We’d been observing the relations between Doctors Hanji, Levi, and Erwin over the past few weeks since rumors about sexual affairs were going around.

 

The life of a doctor was so exciting. Getting sued left and right and then also seeing things like affairs and fraud…yeah we were living the life.

 

“Marco!” Christa exclaimed. I sighed, shaking my head. “Sorry, but it’s against the rules Christa.” I stated again. The girl looked more than upset but I couldn’t do much to satisfy her. I wasn’t willing to go against years of tradition, or should I say lack of tradition since a lot of doctors did weird shit anyway?

 

She threw a pen at me again, this time leaving an ink smudge on my hand as I tried to deflect it. The girl was a lot of fun but she could care too much sometimes. I tried convincing myself she wasn’t right about the third wheel statement though. I’m not exactly the luckiest one out of our circle of friends.

 

Sighing, I shook my head and began doing rounds on the patients we did have. I checked on the few babies that were on our floor. Eventually Doctor Ral came upstairs from the ER to say hi to all our patients and be as kind and courteous as possible.

 

She made it a rule to say hi to everyone when she was in the hospital. I sat down at our department’s front desk the moment she came around to look at one of the computers for something. Christa had gone down to the cafeteria with Ymir.

 

“You seem a little down?” Doctor Ral commented as she sat down in the chair a seat away from me. I shrugged in response. To her, the OB residents were like her family and she needed to take care of them.

 

“I had a patient call me freckled Jesus in the operating room.” I stated almost like it was a fun fact. She laughed once and nodded. “Auruo told me.” She explained when I gave her a look for her response.

 

Petra always used the other doctor’s first names when she was talking to them or about them. She especially liked to talk about Doctor Rivaille the most. Rivaille, or Levi since no one liked calling him by his last name, was a doctor that was much alike to your everyday Doctor Gregory House. He only took cases that interested him and anyone he did get involved with had an 85% chance of surviving.

 

The statistics were wild considering the types of patients he got.

 

“You should say good bye to that patient before he leaves.” She hummed, logging into the computer using her username and password. I nodded my head slightly. I could at least do that. It was likely the patient, Jean Kirschstein, would leave tomorrow.


	2. Just Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco starts his first day of ER and Jean makes a bold appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey dokey guys! So I just want to say before you start reading this chapter that when I picture Jean and Marco's relationship, I find it pretty equal. No one person takes more of the initiative and no specific person tops (because yeah). I also wanted to give Marco a sort of lonely feel going into this chapter because if you don't have super close friends going into a residency it's hard to really have time to make any. Armin and Christa are also under the same pressure of work and time so while it may seem to Marco that they don't particularly like him, its really just a timing thing for them and work getting in the way. Marco is also hesitant to relationships for reasons likely to be diverged soon. 
> 
> And in other news the next chapter is going to probably be Jean's POV, idk tell me what you think. I'm debating whether or not to switch between points of view or just stick with one consistently. I'd really like feedback there. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the chapter! And someone help me idk what profession to give Annie.

I left that night quite late, two patients having stumbled in with their babies just fighting to be premature. Christa and I handled it quite nicely, and shortly after that I had to say goodbye to working in the maternity ward for a month. I didn’t know whether or not I’d miss it.

 

When I got home to my small, shared apartment I found that Armin had already passed out on the couch. He must have had the day shift because he was surrounded by text books and flashcards with a glass of half drunken orange juice on the coffee table.

 

Determined not to wake my typically stressed roommate, I walked to the kitchen and quietly consumed cold leftovers from a night or two ago. Every once in a while I would hear the buzzing of Armin receiving a text, probably from Mikasa or Eren. I had the fortune of meeting the two when Armin invited them over the first time after he moved in.

 

Eren was quite the character, and Mikasa was quite protective over both Eren and Armin both. I found it amusing until she questioned me about everything I was like I might hurt Armin or something.

 

Regardless, I’d had a habit of responding to her texts for Armin if he were never in a position to answer. She was likely to burst through the door if he didn’t respond for too long or say that he wouldn’t be responding.

 

Keeping that in mind, I made my way over and picked up his phone. His password was the same as always ‘cell’. When asked about it, he’d always remark about it being a vital part of the human body, and how it was also ironic because it was a cellphone. It was one of those nerdy jokes I wouldn’t put past Armin, and quite frankly it was kind of funny.

 

To my surprise the person texting him wasn’t Mikasa, nor was it Eren. It was Annie Leonhardt. Honestly in the one time I met the woman, she’d never said a word to me but apparently she seemed fine when it came down to texting.

 

Innocently I texted back to her. “ _Hey its Marco, Armin fell asleep studying. Just wanted to let you know.”_ I wanted to prevent any misunderstandings or apparent ignorance. The only response I received was a plain ‘thanks’. I wasn’t surprised.

 

Reality did hit me in the face though. Armin was getting texts from a person he was in the process of dating and I was only getting the occasional text from someone who wanted to know if I could do them a favor and pick up something for them or cover their call.

 

I didn’t even have friends that texted me frequently.

 

I sighed and texted back to Annie a ‘no problem’ and set Armin’s phone down where he’d left it. The shorter blond was definitely knocked out. He didn’t even twitch when I pulled out the extra blanket from the closet and threw it over him in an attempt to partially wake him up at least. I’d rather he sleep in his own bed rather than get pain in his back but I wasn’t willing to forcefully wake him up to do so. I let him be from then on, making my way to my room.

 

Otherwise, the night passed by normally. It was already bordering midnight and I had to be at the ER tomorrow at six in the morning which meant I’d be waking up around five at the latest.

 

My life was bleak if anything. It was a never ending cycle of studying, turning down friends to study, and work with the occasional failed date thrown in. I knew Armin was just the same minus the failed dating aspect, but he turned down friends less. As much as Armin and Christa were my friends, we didn’t do much together. Christa and Armin had other close friends or significant others that they spent more time with.

 

I didn’t blame them. I only really knew them as a study partner or a work colleague. Armin and I went to the same medical school and Christa met at the beginning of our residency together. Maybe Christa was right, I was the third wheel. I needed to get out more and meet more people.

 

The question was whether or not I’d actually have the time to do so.

 

I didn’t fall asleep until twelve thirty, and my alarm was already blaring at four thirty four hours later.

 

-o-

 

For the majority of the morning I felt like a zombie, including the point where I showed up at the ER. Three broken wrists and a nail gun incident later, I was sitting on an empty bed feeling like dirt and rubbing my eyes to keep myself awake.

 

I didn’t have any sick kids or injured middle aged men to look after for the moment and I started to count that as a blessing. The more and more I looked around at the odd mish mash of cases that came in, the more I longed for the crying babies and happy mothers of the OB department.

 

I dealt with emotionally exhausted adults and new lives, not people who didn’t take the time to read the instructions carefully.

 

All the same, I still had a month of this to get through. This was only the first day.

 

For a while I sat there, zoning out for the most part and seeing my vision blur from a lack of sleep. This wasn’t the first time this week I got less than five hours of sleep. I would have likely kept sitting there until my next patient rolled in through the door had I not heard my newest nickname get called.

 

“Hey freckled Jesus!” The voice repeated once after initially calling the statement. I lifted my head and looked up to spot the compound fracture patient with his arm in a sling and a discharge sheet in his one workable hand as he waved at me with it.

 

Initially the plan was to say something when he was leaving, yes, but I hadn’t expected for him to start the conversation himself. Awkwardly I made my way past a few patients with their odd gazes on me and stood in front of the guy where he’d called to me from the entrance to the room. Now standing up, I could see he was slightly shorter than me and maybe even younger.

 

“My name is Marco.” I corrected him, hoping he wouldn’t stick with his fantasy name of mine. The male shrugged. “Jean.” He held out his free hand for a handshake even with the discharge sheet in it. I was wondering why he was here alone.

 

Carefully I took the sheet from him and shook his hand before handing it back to him. I could still hear the echo of Christa’s words in the back of my brain as I looked at the guy. For a moment there was silence between the both of us and I could tell Jean was looking me over now that he could properly commit everything to memory.

 

Needless to say I was a little uncomfortable. The guy seemed to have a pissed off look plastered on his face and he held his mouth in a frown. “Thanks for what you did with the arm.” He finally said after what was probably a minute of silence.

 

I nodded my head and smiled lightly. “I really didn’t do anything. You should thank Doctors Bossard and Arlert.” I deflected the thanks as best I could. I wasn’t going to take all the credit, I really didn’t do anything.

 

“No, but you made sure I didn’t freak out.” Jean countered. I could see something in his eyes change, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. It was most likely annoyance to my humility.

 

I looked away for a moment. This was getting way weirder than it needed to be. Hopefully someone would interrupt the conversation. Jean was a lot less forgiving and kind when he wasn’t hopped up on drugs.

 

Lucky for me, a shorter male with a shaved head called from behind Jean. “Jean! Dude, I thought you said you’d meet me out front.” The guy said as he made his way over. He was dressed in what looked like a delivery man’s outfit.

 

I backed up a step as Jean turned around to face his friend. “Oh put a sock in it Connie. I’m talking to someone.” Jean complained to the shorter and I smirked slightly. At least my patient had some sense of manners about him, regardless of his thug-like face, which in all retrospect, was quite an attractive one.

 

Connie grumbled and waited at the yard and a half away he’d been at when Jean told him to shut up. I would have said something to him as an apology but Jean turned back to me with a new sense of emergency.

 

“Anyway, I was wondering if we could hang out or something.” He stated in a serious tone and I blinked in surprise. So, not only did this guy seem to be involved in the universe’s plan to screw me over with my job, but he was also one to take the initiative. Something about that seemed off.

 

Deciding to let him down nicely, I went to talk but the male’s composure seemed to break. “Ok, I know how weird that is considering you’re technically one of my doctors and I called you freckled Jesus the second I saw you but honest to god this isn’t a prank or anything. I mean it.” Jean rambled for a minute and I was forced to stop myself from talking.

 

Okay to be honest that was actually quite cute but that still didn’t change how I was looking at this. “I…It’s…” I couldn’t seem to grasp the words I wanted to say. I was never good at letting people down easy. I had a bad habit of never saying no.

 

He stopped me before I could continue and reached forward, way into my personal space, and pulled my phone out of my white coat pocket. I froze up, watching as he unlocked my phone and skated through my contacts. I honestly need to learn how to say no.

 

In seconds he was creating a contact for himself. “Here, call me.” He said placing phone back when he was done and turning around to go off with his friend. I clumsily raised a hand to take my phone back out, watching him go. His friend, Connie, gave me a pitiful look. “You should really make a password for that thing.” He suggested before walking off with Jean.

 

It was probably the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.

 

I stood there for probably three minutes after he left before I finally snapped back to reality somewhat and by that point I had already drawn the attention of a friend.

 

Reiner Braun, a newly graduated cardiovascular specialist who had the pleasure of getting people’s hearts to continue beating, slapped me on the back and sprung me back to liveliness. I immediately went to rub where he’d hit me, as it was likely to bruise from the male’s forceful blow.

 

“What’s up with you, Bodt?” He commented, having probably seen the awestruck and shocked face I’d had plastered on my face for a good portion of time.

 

I stared at him for a minute before finding my words. “Patient just put his number in my phone.” I replied robotically, deserving a laugh from Reiner. Of course the guy would laugh at me. He was likely to laugh at anyone if he found what was happening to them to be pathetic.

 

“So you got flirted with. Big deal? You need to get out more.” He repeated the phrase that everyone seemed to utter when around me. I furrowed my eyebrows and scowled in response. “He took my phone from my pocket without warning.” I tried to defend myself and Reiner laughed even more.

 

“Whatever, freckled Jesus.” The second he uttered the nickname I wanted to punch something. Leave it to Christa to spread that one. Or more likely, she told it to Ymir in hopes that she’d stay quiet and Ymir told everyone. I wouldn’t put it past the custodian.

 

That, or Bossard and Ral told Rivaille who told Zoe and then anyone who got a lab report knew. I don’t know. The hospital is a screwed up place.

 

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll punch you.” I warned and while it seemed like a threat, it was really quite empty and Reiner knew that. The taller blond smirked and made his way around me to go down the hallway. “Like you could hurt a fly.” He mused absentmindedly.

 

Leave it to me to dig a hole even deeper for myself.

 

-o-

 

The rest of the day was filled with odder injuries and a few cases of the flue. I spotted Christa a few times as she went to meet up with Ymir or go to the cafeteria but I never had the guts to ask her if she’d spread the story about my nickname.

 

Several times I had a doctor or two call me freckled Jesus and it wasn’t the most pleasing of things to happen to me.

 

I got to spend time with Armin when he finally came in later for his shift and I spoke with Bertholdt when the taller male and I met up in the cafeteria at the same time. He assured me that Reiner had heard the nickname from Hanji Zoe, thus explaining the origin of its travels.

 

I ‘accidentally’ bumped into Doctor Bossard at one point when he wasn’t looking, causing him to prick himself with a needle by accident. He never knew it was me.

 

Either way, by the time it came to the end of my rotation, I was exhausted and it only further signified my lack of interest in the ER. I don’t know how Armin could enjoy it, although, he does get to meet some interesting people. Mostly odder people but at the same time I couldn’t judge.

 

All throughout the day I felt the weight of my cellphone in my pocket reminding me of the not so subtle move that Jean Kirschstein had made on me. I really shouldn’t even contemplate calling him considering the implications unless I were to be declining his offer.

 

But for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I kept wondering what might happen if I called him and if he arranged a time or place and we ended up going out. The promise of someone who was interested in me while I was in my current situation was both stunning and scary. It wasn’t scary enough to delete the phone contact but it did make me wonder whether or not this really was a joke.

 

He’d stated that it wasn’t a prank but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in my future salary. He kind of seemed like the person I wouldn’t normally hang out with. People associated me with nice and kindness but he seemed to be the person who’d go around flipping people off if they prompted him. Or maybe I was reading him wrong, I couldn’t be sure.

 

Either way it could be a nice change to date someone with a rougher personality. I made friends with a lot of nice people and maybe it would be a welcome change.

 

For a long time I sat in the on call room with my phone in my hand, ready to press the call button. I stared at the number and the name, trying to will myself to at least to do something rather than keep sitting there.

 

Questions kept popping up in my head. Like how did Jean break his arm like that and what his life would be like. What if he broke his arm in a fight and what was the fight over? Would Jean be a good addition to my life or a negative one?

 

And why the hell was the choice of whether or not to call someone becoming so complicated?

 

Heck it should be as simple as, I like the dude so I’ll call him or the guy is a creep don’t do it. But there was all that fuzzy gray area about doctor patient relations that messed with it. Really he wasn’t exactly my patient. All I did was make sure he didn’t die or freak out in the operating room. I wasn’t he one operating.

 

So why would it matter? Would I technically even be considered his doctor?

 

“You look like you’re thinking about something.” I heard someone say and not to my surprise it was Armin. He must have had to grab something from his locker.

 

I shrugged and put my phone away again. “That patient gave me his phone number and told me to call him.” I stated, knowing that Armin would recognize who I was talking about. He was there and what other patient would have actually done something in terms of starting a relationship with me?

 

Armin smiled at that and sat down on the couch next to me. The television was on mute, playing some old Mexican soap opera like usual. I don’t know who kept setting it to that considering the only ones really allowed in the call room were residents and the occasional custodial staff. From what I knew, none of our custodial staff watched Mexican soap operas.

 

“Why don’t you call him?” Armin asked and I sighed in response. “Doctor-Patient relations.” I replied back in an exasperated tone. Either way the way in which Jean and I met wasn’t quite orthodox on its own.

 

Armin snickered, causing me to look at him. Seriously everyone keeps laughing at me when I say my reasoning. “I can understand the concern. But come on Marco that guy is cute and he’s asking you out and he’ll never be your patient again after today so why does it matter?”

 

I listened to what he had to say and found it was quite true. Unless Jean broke an arm or something during the next month, I wouldn’t be treating him ever again. The only circumstance would be if he was suddenly a woman and pregnant which was _extremely_ unlikely.

 

It still didn’t make me feel that comfortable with the idea. I might just be facing a fear towards relationships and Jean and I could just be friends. I would have to keep reassuring myself that nothing had to get serious.

 

Armin kept giving me that look that said he was right and I had no excuse. I only returned the gaze for a while before exhaling and agreeing. “Okay but if I end up in loads of trouble I’m pointing at you when they tell me to confess.” I warned and Armin rolled his eyes and stood up.

 

“Either way I wanted to talk to you. We’re going to throw a Christmas party soon and we wanted to know when you’d be off work.” Armin started with a new glint in his eyes. I wondered if he thought I’d somehow get Jean to come as my date.

 

For a moment I wondered who he meant by we. Was it Christa or his other friends? I couldn’t be sure but I knew the vast majority must be doctors or med students. Or at least I hoped for that. I knew enough doctors and med students that it might make it easier for me to socialize.

 

“I don’t know yet.” I said and it was a plausible response. Most residents don’t know their schedules that well if they even exist yet. Armin seemed to see that I was wondering whether or not to go.

 

He gave me a slightly saddened look. “Come on Marco, you’re like the life of the party.” He said and I laughed at that statement. “Keep telling yourself that.” I replied as he started moving towards the exit. It was clear he didn’t have much time to argue with me.

 

It looked like he was going to say something in response but all he said was “see you tonight” as he shut the door. If he meant “see you asleep on the couch while I eat cold noodles” then he was correct because that was probably the most often occurring incidence.

 

I took another moment to myself before pulling out my phone again, opening a text message and typed “ _So how did that fracture come across you anyway_ ” and left it at that. I figured he would know it was me.

 

The response was immediate, I didn’t even have time to get up and grab my things from my locker to head home. “ _long story. meet up and talk about it?”_ I could tell he was one of those people not to be too good with texting rather than talking face to face.

 

I glanced at the time at the top of my phone screen and exhaled. I could kill for food at that particular moment and the cafeteria didn’t sound at all appealing at the moment. While I was still extremely apprehensive, there was something alluring about the blunt nature of this guy.

 

If anything being friends might be a good idea. With that in mind, I pulled together a quick reply. “ _Sure”_. By the time I reached my car, we’d already worked out plans to meet up at a pub around twenty blocks from the hospital. He said it was near where he lived and I wondered what kinds of places were close by to it that I could remember.

 

Christa would have been proud of me, knowing that I was going against all logic and reason to meet a guy outside of work. Heck if Armin had talked to her then she probably already knew. If the ‘meeting’ went well with Jean then I might stop by her apartment when I went home. She lived in the same apartment complex as Armin and I, which really made me question why we didn’t hang out more.

 

All the same the time constraints of our job were a gloomy reminder. Trying to meet up with people outside of work is fine, but inside of work there’s hundreds of schedules to keep to and ‘what ifs’. Lesson from the wise, don’t expect a wild social life when going into medical training.

 

Anxious but also a little excited, I stepped into my car with the mindset that Jean and I would be friends. Romance was still up in the air and no matter how many people talk to me, I’ll still have that one rule stuck in my head.

 

Would it be worth it? I’d have no idea until I actually talked to the guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks so far they are greatly appreciated! Also, remember, if you have any preference towards point of view please tell me as I may be switching to Jean's point of view for the next chapter.
> 
> **EDIT** This posted incorrectly the first time, the entire chapter was cut in half so sorry! D8


	3. Freckled Jesus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's POV, Jean laments over calling a cute doctor Freckled Jesus and manages to ask him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was both really hard and really easy to write. On one hand, this is probably a type of Jean you've never read before. On the other, you might find him hilarious.
> 
> Also sorry for the later update, I planned to update sooner but crap happened and idk. Shiznits. Also apologies for the multitude of deleted comments in the first two chapters. I was blessed with someone who seemed to have a personal vendetta against the way I write(?). Idk. 
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you guys like it! Tell me what you think of my Jean POV because if it sucks, I know.

With all due respect, waking up on the operating table and calling a doctor “freckled Jesus” was a pretty bad idea. It was bound to get me made fun of by my friends, if not the strangers that worked in the hospital. But in my defense, I was _pretty_ doped up and the guy looked like an angel with the lighting and the super nice face. Like really nice, as in totally smoochable nice.

 

Maybe it was some weird form of Stockholm Syndrome. I mean I don’t particularly think guys are hot. I prefer girls for the most part but _damn_. At least I’m not confused about my sexuality. That was why the second I was alone in the patient room they’d wheeled me into, I pulled out my phone and called Connie.

 

Connie Springer and I have been ‘friends’ since the eighth grade and despite the ridiculous shit he pulls, we’ve managed to hold onto what little friendship we have. Either way I planned on calling him so he could give me a ride home once the hospital discharged me.  We lived in the same neighborhood and sometimes in the same humble abode.

 

Connie answered the phone with the same, half annoyed, half hoping tone as if he was waiting for the call to tell him he won the lottery or inherited a trust fund. “ _You’ve reached the Con-man.”_ It was all he said, almost like a voicemail message.

 

“It’s Jean.” I answered, wasting no time with pleasantries. We were done with those before we even met. I do believe I punched him square in the face the first time we talked, actually. “I’m at the hospital. I don’t know when I’m getting discharged but you sure as hell better have time to pick me up.” I continued expectantly.

 

Connie hummed for a minute in fake contemplation. “ _Mmm, I don’t know Jean_.” I could practically see that shit eating grin now.

 

“Fine, I won’t tell you about the really attractive brunette I met today. She seems your type. Might even go out with you if you begged on your knees.” I lied cleanly in response. I didn’t have time to be super angry. We needed to get to the point.

 

Connie gasped on the other line. “ _Woah, woah, okay dude. Fine by me. What are you in the hospital for anyway_?”

 

I glanced towards the doorway of the room once to make sure no one was going to walk in. I hated talking on the phone when other people were around and being extremely and totally snoopy and all up in your business. It’s like every person you’re talking to is supposed to be someone you’re having an affair with or they told you that your great aunt died or something.

 

“Work stuff. It wasn’t Jaeger.” My reply was laced with my utter hatred towards the idiot I’ve known since high school. Eren Jaeger, the despicable of the despicable. More annoying than Connie and his tiny siblings combined. My mind then flashed to my memory of the operating table and I think I could remember a familiar blonde.

 

 _Armin_. Eren’s extremely smart friend who I knew was studying to be a surgeon or something. “I think Armin was my doctor…” I muttered aloud, musing over it. I had nothing against the guy really. It was just who he hung out with.

 

“ _How bad is it_?” Connie asked, now showing at least a little concern for my health and wellbeing. Good for him. He _should_ feel bad. My face was going to be bruised to all hell and that is an offense made by the universe itself.

 

“You know those nasty breaks that like the bone goes through the skin? Yeah that.” I cringed thinking about it. Getting my arm physically broken was painful but the added blood and bone and broken skin. Yeah, could have done without that part. I would have been screaming for hours had I not passed out at the sight of my own visible broken bone.

 

Connie could be heard almost gagging. “ _Shit! Man that’s…ew oh god. I feel for you. Just call me when you know you’re getting discharged. I think I need to go vomit.”_

I would have let him go had I not forgotten the fact that I was partially calling over my mistake earlier in the operating room and a certain adorable freckled Jesus. “Wait! No, there’s something else.” I insisted, yelling to prevent him from ending the call.

 

There was silence for a moment before I heard a very exasperated ‘what’ on Connie’s end.

 

“I called a doctor freckled Jesus.” I said as simply as possible.

 

Silence ensued for another few minutes. “ _Wait what?”_ Connie asked, not even making it to the laughing I’d expected. I mean, was the shock too much? I thought it was pretty standard.

 

“I was all doped up okay. I woke up on the operating table and this really nice doctor was helping me out and stuff. Made sure I didn’t freak out.” I explained, annoyed that he didn’t get it but well it was a pretty odd situation.

 

Connie snorted in laughter and I contemplating chucking the phone. Now he decided to laugh? “ _Was she hot?_ ” Connie questioned, seeming more preoccupied with the fact I called this person nice.

 

“Yeah but it was a guy.” I corrected. Connie had known for a while that I wasn’t exactly straight. To be honest I don’t know if there’s a true classification for what my sexuality was. I’m into girls but some guys are hot too and really I can’t think of anyone in a romantic setting but Mikasa Ackerman. Freckled Jesus was different though. There was some potential.

 

“ _Aw man. Really? You had to call a guy hot._ ” There was no stopping the teasing when it came to Connie either. Fuck him too. He was plenty fine with homosexuals but mention it around him and he’d mock it until he died.

 

I scowled. “Shut up. I’ll call you later when I’m allowed to leave.” I decided to end that conversation before it even started. Connie was a dick.

 

I didn’t let Connie any time to answer either and just hung up the phone and chucked it onto the blankets of the bed I was in. The extremely uncomfortable bed, might I add. God, how did anyone ever manage to stay in a hospital for long periods of time? Not to mention doctors. Maybe I could ask Armin.

 

But seriously, between the sticky floors and the crying people everywhere? I didn’t see the appeal to working in a hospital. The food’s shit and there’s this overflowing sense of…emotion? Not the good emotions; the icky, people crying and blowing their nose and doing it all on your shoulder to ruin your good shirts kind of emotions.

 

Damn do you always end up feeling like shit too and you start dragging home colds and flus to your family when you go. I remember the one time in sophomore year when Connie had to go to the hospital for a sprained ankle or something and brought sickness back to school with him.

 

The epidemic was terrifying and the kill count was high. I think at the prime of its time there were absences in the upwards of seventy kids in the entire school gone at a time. Still fun thinking of how many kids beat the hell out of Connie for it later.

 

Thinking about the simpler times at least helped me ignore the growing pain in my arm as the pain killers from earlier wore off. I tried not looking at the bandaged arm too often, now set in a tight brace to prevent movement until I guessed they’d be casting it.

 

Fuck if I didn’t get an awesome color for my cast and _no one_ would be drawing dicks on it. If they did, they’d have to face my wrath and eat concrete for dinner.

 

I’m a violent guy, if you haven’t noticed. I’ll fight anyone, no matter the size, gender, age, sexuality, whatever discriminating factor you can come up with. Connie was my most likely target. He’s kind of a dick twenty-four seven and I’ll smack him around for it. It is all in good humor, honestly.

 

Groaning, I fell back onto my pillows and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the smell of rubbing alcohol and bodily fluids.

 

Eventually I ended up taking a nap but was roused when Armin stopped by. He was grinning at me like some sly dog, something I didn’t know he could do. Armin seemed to be different in his own environment. No longer the scared and sheepish nerd Armin but instead now the man who could wield a scalpel and murder you with no evidence.

 

I should probably talk to him about helping me get back at a few guys. He seemed like the man you could bully into shit like that.

 

“What are you smiling about?” I said with a scowl and Armin shrugged. The blond was dressed in scrubs and a short white coat. He seemed interested in me for the most part but there was also an underlying sense that made him seem like he was there for something else.

 

Armin fiddled around the room aimlessly, checking vital signs and looking at my chart. “I’m just thinking about what you called my friend.” He replied back and I frowned even more. If he was here to tease me about calling the doctor Freckled Jesus then he had another thing coming.

 

“Hey, I’m not here for berating.” I grumbled, watching him as he moved about the room.

 

Armin nodded his head in agreement and then finally sat down in one of the chairs they set out for crying family members and distressed spouses. “You don’t actually like him do you?” Armin asked carefully and I almost reeled in response.

 

“What do you mean by that?” I answered back in question. I barely knew the guy and damn he was attractive and cute and wow. Super cute. Super nice. Something I’d definitely get into if at all possible or hell he could get into me for all I cared.

 

Armin looked at me as though I was expertly dodging the question. In truth, I was. “I mean that if anything happens between you two that you won’t hurt him.” Armin said in clarification and I watched him like maybe he was crazy.

 

Sure I could ask the guy out, see what happened. But why was Armin so into what happened with the fellow doctor? “You don’t have a thing for him do you?” I asked and Armin looked at me like I was nuts.

 

“No. Oh my god, no. Jean, I don’t know you very well and you don’t know me that well either but I’m dating a girl.” Armin corrected and then I stared at him.

 

Really? Armin dating a girl? Didn’t see that one coming. Armin looked pretty gay to me but maybe he was bisexual. Or in the closet. I don’t know.

 

“For clarification, no. I don’t plan on hurting your doctor friend. Now go figure out when I can get discharged so I can eat real food and binge on burgers.” I ordered, my stomach now grumbling for the wonders of fast food. McDonalds, Burger King, Wendy’s, you name it. I was ready for some nasty food that would probably kill you if eaten in the proportions I was planning for.

 

Armin cringed at my statement as if wondering if I was healthy at all. Little known secret, I wasn’t.

 

“I’ll see if they can put a cast on you soon. But for the sake of your cholesterol, please don’t do what I think you’re planning to.” Armin  warned and I shook my head, raising my good hand.

 

“I shall make no promises.” I stated and he was gone out of the room in moments.

 

Then soon I found myself getting lonely again. Jean Kirschstein needs no people but damn it the hospital is boring and there was no television in my room so I could watch Spanish soap operas and cry about it until midnight.

 

I needed my emotion filled drama. Even if I didn’t normally watch Spanish soap operas.

 

Eventually I conned one of the janitors to play a few rounds of Uno with me, (who the hell only has a deck of Uno cards like what about a normal deck. We could have played poker.) Then Armin and a few other doctors/nurses walked in and casted my arm. It hurt like a bitch but they gave me more pain medication so all was well in the boring world of the hospital.

 

I fell asleep that night like a baby and was out like a log. Nothing could wake me until a nurse walked in with my discharge papers and gave me a laundry list of duties and what I could and could not do. The rebel in me said no about a thousand times and then stuck his food up his own ass when he tried lifting something too heavy.

 

Hell yeah, I’m gonna listen to the docs on that one.

 

No more rebel for me. I might even reconsider the immediate need for fast food. (After thinking about that, I came to a hard pass and decided a Frosty was in order.)

 

I called Connie for pick up the second I signed my papers and hoped he’d get here soon enough. The next goal was to hunt down freckled Jesus and pray he’d talk to me after that embarrassment. He was probably nice enough to do so.

 

Of course I wasn’t smart enough to ask which department the guy belonged to or hell, if he even existed. Maybe Armin was playing into some sick fantasy of mine.

 

But, I figured wandering around the ER for a while would give me enough chances to run into him. Figures that I was right because I spotted the freckled beauty. Determined to catch the guy’s attention I stopped in the hallway and yelled to him. “Hey freckled Jesus!” It was the only name I could come up with and I felt a little guilty for doing so in front of so many others but damn it we needed to talk business.

 

At first he didn’t respond so I called out the nickname again, waving a workable hand at him to catch his attention. He seemed a little shocked at first and had this embarrassed look on his face that was pretty darn cute.

 

But the guy eventually schooled his features into calm and nervously made his way over. At least I got his attention and he didn’t high tail it in the opposite direction.

 

“My name is Marco.” He corrected in a definite tone and I leaned back for a moment before mentally adding that to my dictionary of names and faces. He’d still be freckled Jesus in my head but Marco worked too.

 

I shrugged and stuck out my good hand regardless of the fact that it was holding my discharge sheet. “Jean.” I greeted.

 

He took the sheet from my hand and shook it once before replacing my discharge sentence. I spent the following moment of silence correctly committing his features and appearance to memory. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

 

Eventually after deeming my mental image fit, I thanked him. “Thanks for what you did with the arm.” I said like any nervous dork would. I probably had that grumpy scowl on my face as per usual. People always said I looked perpetually mad.

 

Then, as sportsmanlike as any, Marco smiled and nodded his head. “I didn’t really do anything. You should thank doctors Bossard and Arlert.” He tried to pawn off my thanks to some lesser doctors but I know he did all the real work. Or at least my brain was convinced.

 

“No, but you made sure I didn’t freak out.” I pointed out and at least the thought was what counted. He was more concerned about me than my arm on the operating table. I was a little annoyed that he was trying to deflect my thanks. He deserved it. My brain was thinking:  _Don't you dare shrug off my thanks, Jesus._

 

Just as I was about to ask the big question, aka, give me your number bro because you’re hotter than a hot tamale, Connie appeared and ruined the silent but awkward moment.

 

Of course Connie just had to show up now. “Jean! Dude, I thought you said you’d meet me out front.” He said like the annoying twat that he is. I wanted to turn around and punch him.

 

I came up with the most brilliant come back ever. “Oh put a sock in it Connie. I’m talking to someone.” I snapped back, knowing that if anyone deserved some respect, it was this Marco dude. I bet Connie would catch on pretty quickly that Marco was the guy I’d been talking about.

 

Marco seemed to smirk from where he was watching for whatever reason but Connie stayed put where he was and shut it. He at least got the message. 

 

Now feeling the pressing matter of time, I turned back to Marco with a new sense of urgency. “Anyway, I was wondering if we could hang out or something.” I prompted, like any odd and nervous high school student might do. Ugh, I am so shitty at asking people out.

 

Marco looked a little upset at the offer and was about to say something when I cut him off before he could let me down. “Ok, I know how weird that is considering you’re technically one of my doctors and I called you freckled Jesus the second I saw you but honest to god this isn’t a prank or anything. I mean it.” I rambled in a hope to stop him.

 

His facial expression didn’t change and he struggled for words. “I…it’s…” He tried to say and I felt my brain working way too fast. Enter Panic Mode. Before I knew what to do I just reached forward and grabbed the phone that was hiding in his jacket pocket. 

 

Like some weird automatic response I began unlocking his phone and putting my number into his contacts. Then I shoved his phone back in his jacket pocket and leaned back. “Here, call me.” I said like some dork who hadn’t just broke a thousand personal space laws.

 

I glanced to Connie, about ready to run like hell for the sake of my sanity. Connie then pointed towards Marco and suggested something that made me want to smack him. “You should really make a password for that thing.”

 

Upset he’d suggested it, I quickly walked over, pushed him with my cast, and lead him off towards the front desk. Once out of an ear shot I stomped on his food once.

 

“What the hell man!” Connie complained but I was done with his shit.

 

I turned onto him waving a discharge paper in his face. “What was that!?” I asked, fuming. I would’ve beaten him up if my arm wasn’t broken to all hell.

 

“What was that? No _really_. What was that Jean? You just took the guy’s phone!” Connie ranted as we made our way down the spacious hallway and I groaned, about ready to punch him and make _him_ go to the emergency room.

 

Damn him. Damn them all. I am one suave dude.

 

Connie and I made it out of the hospital without any new major injuries. Kind of funny we had more coming out than going in but I figured that was something that should have come on my warning label.

 

The pizza delivery guy made no objections when I ordered that we stop at the nearest fast food joint for something greasy and outrageously bad for you. He and I ended up at McDonalds with McFlurries of random flavors and a shit ton of fries.

 

Eating fast food made you feel good. Especially when you almost got turned down by a doctor and probably were going to get turned down anyway.

 

Once he dumped me at home in my grungy apartment, I curled up on the couch, practically ate Advil by the pound, and watched Spanish soap operas in lament to the fact I couldn’t do so at the hospital. All the while I eyed my phone suspiciously.

 

Would freckled Jesus-Marco call? No? Maybe? Yes?

 

I hoped so.

 

Then in the evening I received the best thing ever. A text from god. Or really his son with freckles.

 

“ _So how did that fracture come across you anyway_ ” was the text I received and damn was that like some blessing given to me by the deities. Being the suave man I am, I responded back quicker than a cheetah and hoped to god that didn’t make me look desperate.

 

“ _long story. meet up and talk about it?”_

Marco/Freckled Jesus responded back after a moment of silence. “ _Sure._ ” He agreed. FUCK HE AGREED. ENTER PANIC MODE, AGAIN.

 

Forcing myself to calm down I managed to get my brain back in a semblance of order. Ok what to do next? Plan a time and place. Okay. I could do that. As long as he has no objections to pub foods because what next to follow fast food? Alcohol and something you’d find at a pub. Like a specific sandwich or who knows, buffalo wings of some odd sort.

 

“ _u ok with pub called trost? about 20 blocks from hospital and near my place”_ I reasoned. Hopefully he’d feel bad and not try and make me drive anywhere really far. Sure I could drive but I was on a lot of meds still. A lot.

 

Marco’s only response back was an “ _alright_ ” and then the conversation ended.

 

Holy shit. I was going on a date with the freckled messiah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eehehhhe it probably sucked right? RIGHT? 
> 
> ye. im thinking it sucked but idk slipped in some of my whack humor.


End file.
